*I understand that these first few chapters leave readers with mixed feelings. It's hard to see Edward with someone else. But these memories of him and his wife come at a time for Edward when he just lost her and he is putting her on the tallest pedestal he can. Their love was not perfect or all eternal, but to him right now...it is. So, I ask for your openness and return promise that these detailed flashbacks will not last long.

Dresses.

Women wear them all the time for tons of various reasons. Wearing it is hardly more than trivial in most cases.

One must merely select a dress, shoes and sometimes little else.

They had left the task up to him.

He had stared at the closet they had shared for nearly an hour. He finally managed to wrestle a small amount of strength that was tucked deep inside him to open the doors.

She had many clothes, and as he stared at them, he saw her in each and every one of them. He saw her and the way her hair always looked so pretty, and she had earrings that always shined to match not only her outfit but her eyes, making them sparkle like the sun.

He wished someone else would be here to do this.

The thought that this would be the last outfit she was ever seen in made his throat tighten.

~O~

Edward and Taylor.

E&T could be found nearly everywhere one would look the day of their late spring wedding. The letters were scattered amongst the deep purple orchids and on the tables in the reception hall, along with on the programs.

The names worked together as perfectly as they were sure their lives would. Everyone who knew them would agree.

His blushing bride had chosen purple, which was the first of many decisions in which purple came out victoriously. But if Taylor wanted purple, then he was sure he could live with it.

The hours that led up to the ceremony were typical in the sense that the men went golfing and the women got everything about themselves manicured before cracking open some early champagne.

The bride, having previously slipped into her grand white dress, held up her glass. "I want to thank you all for being here for me today. I couldn't imagine walking down the aisle today without you all by me."

Her best friend beamed, holding up her own glass. "To Taylor!"

The bridesmaids echoed the cheer as they smiled at their stunning friend. Taylor looked like a vision. Her blonde hair was curled softly and makeup done beautifully, accenting her amazing, big blue eyes. The white sparkly dress made her glow.

She leaned in and hugged her best friend. "Thanks, Bella."

Bella smiled at her brightly. "Today's your day and I couldn't be happier for you."

"You got your toast ready to go, Miss Maid of Honor?" Taylor asked with a grin, but Bella saw some of her nerves about the ordeal and couldn't help but be amused.

"You're still worried I'll bring up the time you bought a 25 cent piece of caramel and then returned it for a piece of chocolate!" she accused, laughing.

Taylor flushed. "I was like six!"

Bella looked at her incredulously. "You were 12 and you know it."

"It has nothing to do with my wedding!"

"But it goes to your character!" Bella protested.

Taylor just shook her head at her friend.

"It's a good story!" Bella exclaimed.

"I knew I would never be able to live that down…"

"Was the chocolate worth it?" she wondered teasingly.

Taylor gave her a look with raised eyebrows. "It was chocolate. Of course it was worth it!"

"I always personally wondered what possessed you to buy the caramel in the first place."

"And because of that bad life choice, my 200 closest friends and family will know what an idiot I am! This is in part thanks to what I'm sure will be a lovely speech on your behalf."

Bella grinned. "They already knew you were an idiot, don't kid yourself."

As if to prove her friend's point, she suddenly gasped. "Crap! Where did I set my bouquet?"

Bella rolled her eyes enduringly as she watched Taylor whirl around in a panic. She waited at least a minute and watched in amusement as she looked around.

"Where is it?" Taylor asked in a bit of a freak out.

Bella pointed across the room to a stack of purple and white flowers. "Right on the table…where we put all of them less than five minutes ago."

Taylor let out a comical sigh of relief as she fell back into a couch. Grinning, Bella plopped down gracelessly next to her.

"How much longer?" she wondered anxiously.

Bella looked back at the overhead clock. "About 53 minutes."

Taylor let out a huff.

Amused endlessly by her friend, Bella was content to sit quietly for a minute, knowing Taylor would begin talking momentarily. She was someone usually not comfortable in silence.

As if on cue, "Remember the state tourney?" she wondered randomly.

Bella snorted less than delicately. "Which one?"

"Senior year," she said.

Bella hardly had to think about it. "Of course, I'll never forget it."

Taylor and Bella had been tennis doubles partners since they were nine years old. They had gone to camps, clinics and programs together for years before they reached 7th grade and were able to join the local high school team. Together they made varsity, beating out juniors and seniors their first year.

Together they worked for years. They sweat and cried with each other and pushed the other to their limit and further. Their freshmen year their team went to state and every year after they went together.

Senior year was the year that their team had dramatically called the "End in the Beginning." With their college choices still up in the air in the fall of the year, they worked harder than ever before. Bella wanted to play for college, and even if Taylor had not yet been sure if she wanted to or not, she worked as hard as Bella for it so her friend would have the chance.

They had ended up as the girls tennis doubles state champions by the time the season was over.

"Remember how that whole morning we talked about how nervous we were. You couldn't stop bouncing," she remembered with a laugh as Bella grinned sheepishly.

"I've never been that nervous in my life," Bella said, shaking her head.

Taylor said, "We talked about how the butterflies in our stomachs were something that we had never felt so intensely before."

"And I've yet to feel like that again," Bella finished.

Taylor was quiet for a pause. "That's what I feel now. It's weird, because then, I understood why I was nervous. Everyone had their eyes on us, the girls we were playing had incredibly intense and scary faces and we were sure it would be the last tennis match we ever played together."

Bella was silent, allowing her friend to sort through her words and she listened patiently. "But today," Taylor continued, "I feel as nervous as I did that day, and I can't figure out why. I mean, there's no fear of failure or pressure to play perfectly. It's just another day with Edward."

"You would think of your wedding day as just another day," Bella teased.

Taylor shook her head, "But I'm serious though! I don't know how it is possible for me to love him any more than I already do, regardless of a ring."

Bella who was still single and ready to mingle shrugged. "If I were you, I wouldn't try and figure it out. Just…live it."

Taylor nodded contemplatively. She looked over at her friend with a curious glance as she asked, "How do you always know these things?"

Her friend grinned back at her. "I usually have no clue what the hell I'm saying, but your dumb-ass self listens to me!"

"And I have since I was five!"

They were quiet, each grinning to themselves.

Taylor nudged her gently. "But thank you for managing to talk me out of trees for the past 17 years, and for being here for me today."

Bella put her arm around her, leaning in close. "I'd do anything for you, Taylor."

"I know," Taylor agreed as the friends hugged.

And just like a true friend, Bella left the 25 cent caramel incident out of the toast she made that evening.

~O~

The two days after Taylor's passing (he still had trouble thinking the word "death" for it usually caused him to shake) passed slowly and painfully for him.

Edward, her parents and brother and Bella all sorrowfully met with the funeral director at the funeral home that someone had chosen, for what felt like hours. They selected the flowers, the music for the funeral service, the church, the picture that would be framed, they wrote about Taylor's life for the obituary and divided the rest of the tasks.

Edward had had to leave the room when the mortician had gently pulled out the catalogue of caskets. He had barely made it to the bathroom before retching into the toilet.

He felt empty.

It was as if all light in the world had been snatched from him. He felt only darkness and despair in the days that led to her wake and funeral. Coldness surrounded him and everything he did.

If it hadn't been for Bella, he was not sure if he would have any sense of reality or if Molly would be well cared for. They had established a quiet understanding of each other and rarely said many words to one another as they planned the funeral, cared for Molly and cried for the one they had lost.

Taylor must have known that he would barely be able to function if something were to ever happen to her, and planned for it. It hardly surprised him that she always knew him better than he knew himself.

The day of the wake, Edward found himself a wreck. Given the circumstances, this was hardly unexpected, but the previous days he had managed to keep it together for the most part. The day of the wake found Edward in pain and sick to his stomach. He was not sure if he would be able bear seeing his wife in a casket, lifeless.

Bella had taken over a lot of caring for Molly as he was usually unable to find the will. Most of the time he was sure that she had no idea what he was doing or even where he was. But she needed to be busy, and caring for the little girl gave her a sense of purpose.

His parents had been over in the morning. His father had gently grasped his shoulder in a show of quiet support that Edward knew spoke volumes. His mother had been teary eyed from the moment she walked through the door and had hugged him tightly for a long time. When she released him, she went to find Molly and hug her nearly as tightly. She had then gone to his closet and pulled out black suit pants, a grey dress shirt and a black tie for him to wear to the wake that afternoon.

By the time that they had left he felt himself already drained. Their affection had exhausted him, and he was not sure how he would be able to survive the wake, knowing he must stand by Taylor and accept the condolences of everyone who ever loved her.

Needing to do something productive, he mechanically picked up the clothes his mom had selected and went to the ironing board. In the back of his mind, he knew that in the detached state he was in, using an iron may not be the wisest decision, but the misery in him quickly ignored this.

He had finished the shirt and pants and had just laid down the tie when Bella stuck her head in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly.

Without looking up, he replied, "Ironing."

"You can't iron a tie that way," she informed him gently. She moved next to him and guided his hand with the iron away from the tie.

"Why not?"

"It's silk. You can't iron silk," she told him as she rummaged through the laundry bin. She pulled out one of Molly's onesies and placed it over the tie on the ironing boarding. "Now you iron it carefully."

"I never knew that," he admitted in the same hollow voice that he found his thoughts in.

She cracked a small smile, "Either did Taylor."

He glanced at her with his eyebrow raised at the amusement she had in her broken tone.

"I hardly need to tell you she wasn't always domestic," she said fondly.

"She always ironed my ties, though," he protested.

With a smile, she moved to take over the ironing from him. "Remember that black one you had? With white vertical lines on it?"

He thought about it for a moment. He vaguely recalled a tie that fit that description, but wasn't sure where he had placed it, as he had not seen it in years.

"Yeah," she said, "She wrecked that one and then called me in tears."

Imagining his wife in the first couple months of their marriage and how she had tried so hard, he chuckled tenderly at the image Bella painted.

"If she would have called me a little bit earlier, I could have saved you a tie," she grinned.

"Why'd she never tell me about it?" he wondered.

"She was worried that you would be upset."

Edward shook his head at his wife, his lips quirked up. "I hated that tie."

Bella moved the onesie off of the tie and handed it to him. "Well that was Taylor for you, always worried about other people's happiness, even if you would have been happy to know she destroyed the tie."

He had gone silent. When he didn't take the tie, or even see her hold it up, she carefully set it down over the shirt. "You okay?"

His throat closed, but he fought against it. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"So easily say was instead of is."

He heard her let out a soft, "Oh."

She thought about it with a pause.

Ever so softly, she admitted, "Every time I say was or used to or did it kills me. But I can't afford to lose it when I accidentally think or say is or does because then I remember it's not the case and she's not here…the pain is too much to handle."

When she saw that his hands were braced against the ironing board, and his eyes closed, she knew his pain. Preparing to leave him alone, she picked up Molly's clothing that she had just used.

She read the pink lettering on the onesie and let out a soft sigh as she shook her head. Bella believed in God and in hard times, believed that He was always near.

Hearing the subtle emission of breath, Edward's shoulders drooped and his eyes opened to see what she was thinking about. Bella wordlessly placed the onesie face up on the board, placed a hand on his back and then left.

Edward glanced over at the onesie and read the pink words.

I Love My Mommy

~O~

He had driven to the funeral home where the wake would occur, Bella riding in the passenger seat and Molly silent in the back.

Molly had been an expressive and particularly loud child ever since she was born. She was the sweetest thing her father had ever seen, but she could be sassy and vocal. He and Bella were both worried about her silence the past few days, as it was so unlike her. Somehow she must have known that these were sorrowful times.

When they pulled into Miller Funeral Home's parking lot, Edward's grip on the steering wheel had noticeably tightened. He had no idea how he would find the strength to get through the next 24 hours, as the funeral was at the church tomorrow morning.

They got Molly out of her car seat and she cuddled up next to Bella easily. Edward watched her walk with his daughter, feeling grateful that she had so many people who loved her.

Briefly they met with the funeral director, who was waiting for them in the lobby of the home.

The funeral director was a kind man in his 40's who had gentle trustworthy eyes. "Mr. Cullen, as visitation hours do not begin for 45 more minutes, you have this time in private with your wife. Her parents will also have the opportunity before visitors begin to arrive."

Edward reached out to shake his hand. "Thank you."

The director left them alone after gesturing to the doors that led to the viewing area. Bella and Edward slowly turned to face each other.

"You go ahead, I'll watch Molly," she volunteered somberly.

Edward nodded, letting a long breath out. "Do you think you could…?" he trailed off, gesturing to Molly.

Bella smiled gently, resting her head against Molly's soft copper hair. "I'll bring her in to you in a little bit."

"Thanks," he said. Still, he didn't move from his spot. Something was holding him back from going through the doors to where the casket was.

"Edward," Bella said softly, "We'll get through this, I promise."

"Yeah," he agreed absentmindedly. He nervously ran his hand through his hair before turning and slowly walking through the doors, holding his breath.

The sight that he saw made his heart clench. The many dozens of flowers carefully surrounded a caramel colored wood casket where Taylor lay. She lay there in the light blue dress she had loved, with her hands folded carefully on her abdomen.

Edward dropped to his knees, barely making it to a cushioned kneeling bench that was set up near the casket.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered mournfully, pained to see her this way.

He folded his hands and rested them against the side of the casket, bending his head over to rest on them. He was silent for an immeasurable amount of time, unsure what to say and okay with the silence.

"Taylor, I am so, so sorry. I never meant for it to end this way," he whispered, strangled, "I shouldn't have let you go that night. I know you hate driving in the nighttime. I should have gone to the store and it would have been me instead," he choked out tearfully.

That thought had wracked his brain endlessly since she first entered her coma. Taylor should have stayed home with Molly and he could have gone to get the cough syrup for her.

It should have been him.

"Deep inside of me, I know that I'm not saying goodbye to you now, and I didn't say goodbye to you the other night either. This is your body, but your soul will always be with me. And with Molly."

As if she had been summoned, a knock on the heavy wooden doors echoed through. Hastily, Edward brushed away his tears. "Come in," he called unsteadily.

Hesitantly, Bella stepped through the doors with Molly resting on her hip. Bella, like Edward did not get much ways past the door, as if she was frozen. Edward rose from the kneeler and crossed the distance to her.

He gently took Molly into his arms. "Come here, baby girl."

Bella opened her mouth to say something, probably apologize for some reason or explain. He nodded at her before she could speak. "I know," he said in understanding.

She took a deep breath, her eyes not wavering from the casket. "Oh, Taylor," she sighed brokenly.

Edward felt that his thoughts echoed her own.

"Give us a few minutes and then we'll give you some privacy."

She nodded, took a shallow breath and then held her hands out in front of her, overwhelmed. She then turned on her heal and left the room, trembling.

Molly shifted in his arms, giving him no time to dwell on the woman his wife had loved so much.

Edward adjusted her so that her legs were on each side of his own hip. He carefully walked back over to Taylor, watching Molly's reaction warily.

Molly merely looked curious for a moment. She then tried to wrestle out of Edward's grasp, holding her tiny arms out in front of her with a little whimper.

She wanted to be picked up by her mama.

Edward tightened his grip on her and brought her up near his head so he could nuzzle her hair. "I know, baby, I want her too."

Molly continued to struggle, trying to turn so that she was facing her mom once more, but Edward kept a firm hold on her. It broke his heart to see her struggles, knowing she only wanted her mommy.

"She's still here with us, Moll, I promise."

Molly finally slumped against his chest, defeated. Edward looked from Taylor back to Molly who was now staring at him with the wide blue eyes of her mother's. The look made his knees go weak and he had to brace one of his arms against the edge of the casket.

"Taylor, you were the best mother, wife and friend I could have ever wished to have. And I promise that she'll know you and how lucky we were to have you, and she'll know the love you had for her and our family.

"I promise I won't let you go."

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you, tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start
Running in circles, coming up tails
Heads on a science apart

Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh, take me back to the start.

I was just guessing at numbers and figures
Pulling the puzzles apart
Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart
And tell me you love me, come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
The Scientist, Coldplay

AN: More sad stuff, mixed with the 3rd of 10 glimpses into the life of Taylor. I'm just gonna say this now: it's okay to like her!

I decided to make a new character because if I would have used Tanya, you all would not like her immediately, because FF paints her as a bitch. Just like Mike Newton is usually a bumbling idiot and Alice is a shopaholic. I don't like dealing with connotations people have of characters, and usually would rather make my own.

As I said before, it will get better for these guys! They just gotta get through the wake and funeral first...

And thank you all for your amazing response to this story! It's awesome and your reviews make my day(: